Superwholock
by HadesGhostGirl
Summary: Imaginative title, I know. This is an experiment. I have never written Superwholock before and I couldn't find one to read that I liked, so I wrote this! Please tell me if you like it :)
1. Chapter 1

"Doctor what's going on?" Martha said as she gripped the edge of the TARDIS console. The Doctor seemed to not hear her, he was far too focused on stabilizing the TARDIS.

Eventually he did answer, "We're being pulled through time!" Although he seemed to be more talking to himself than his companion.

"What could do that?" Martha asked, not expecting an answer.

She was very surprised when the Doctor looked up at her, a grin splitting his face. "No idea!" His coat flapped out behind him as he gripped the console. "But I bet it's going to be brilliant!" Martha smiled back at the Time Lord and they both looked up at the Time Column. "Allon-sy~!"


	2. Chapter 2

"So get this," Sam said, turning towards his brother who was driving the Impala. Dean indicated he was listening with a grunt and turned the music down. "People have been going missing around Cincinnati."

"Yeah, so," Dean said, turning his gaze to Sam briefly before looking back to the road. "People go missing all the time." Dean gestured with his right hand to exaggerate the all. "What makes you think this is our kinda thing?"

"That's where it gets interesting," Sam said turning to his laptop and gesturing at the screen. "Witnesses have said that before the disappearances statues of-" Sam paused and his eyes widened slightly. He turned as fully to Dean as the front seat of the Impala would allow. "Weeping Angels were seen but after they had completely vanished."

"Okay, you got me," Dean said. "We know of anything that disguises itself as statues?"

"Not that I'm aware of," Sam turned back in his seat and watched the road.

"We goin' Fed?"

"Not this time," Sam said.

"So were goin' to Ohio then," Dean said turning the music back up.


	3. Chapter 3

"Alright this ones in America," John said, his voice strained with frustration. If Sherlock declined this one it would be the 27th consecutive case the Detective had turned down.

"Boring," the Detective moaned from his position sprawled across the sofa.

John was at the end of his teether. He was going to get Sherlock to agree to this one, and anyway it would be nice to go to America. "At least listen to the actual case!"

Sherlock looked over at John, an eyebrow raised. After a brief pause Sherlock gave in. "Fine!"

"Good," John looked to his laptop. "Alright this lad wants you to look into the disappearance of his girlfriend."

Sherlock groaned. John glared at him. "Oh please do go on," the Detective waved his hand.

"He says she vanished when he went to the toilet," John thought this was sounding interesting, but Sherlock was looking very bored. "When he came back she was gone, her phone was on the floor and the angel statue he'd left her next to had gone as well."

"What was that?" Sherlock said, jumping to his feet and appearing next to John, leaning over his shoulder to read the message. "Angel statue? Interesting!" The Detective strode over to the hat stand, grabbed his coat and scarf and was heading down the stairs before he thought to call John. "Come on then John, the game is on!"

"Where are you going?"

"Ohio!" John had no choice but to grab his own coat and follow the Detective. He did take his laptop with him, but that was it. Sometimes Sherlock really annoyed John.


	4. Chapter 4

"Dean there's a motel," Sam pointed to it.

"So there is Sammy." Dean pulled in and parked up outside. "There aren't many here are there?" The older brother took the key out of the ignition and climbed from the car. Sam followed him out. "I'll go get us a room."

"Yeah," Sam had his laptop on the hood of the car and appeared to be researching the case.

A few minutes later Dean returned with the key. "Let's go." He got back in the car and moved it to the space outside their room.

"Ready for some motel room roulette?" Sam asked his brother.

Dean assumed the established rock, paper, scissors position. "Ready." Sam copied his brother. "1! 2! 3!" Dean pulled scissors same as always, Sam pulled rock.

"When will you learn not to use scissors?" Sam mocked his brother as Dean had a bit of a tantrum before turning to the door. He turned around, back to the door, grimaced. He put his hand on the handle and, slowly, pushed the door open. He leaned round the door and sighed in relief. There were no love hearts, no strange theme. Just two beds, an ancient TV, a door presumably leading to the bathroom and a kitchenette with a mini fridge and a microwave.

"It looks alright," Dean commented. He walked in and dumped his duffel on one of the beds.

"Yeah, it's quite a bit better than our usual actually," Sam added.

Dean flopped on the bed and groaned. "It's nothing next to my memory foam, that bed remembers me."

Sam gave his brother a 'Bitch Face'. "We can't stay in the Bunker, Dean," Sam said.

"I know that, Bitch."

"Whatever Jerk," Sam retorted. "We gonna get on with this case or are you going to sit there whining like a baby?"

"I am not whining like a baby!" Dean cried.

Sam smirked. "Yeah, you kinda are." The taller brother went to the other bed and dumped his bag on it, he pulled his laptop back out and started researching possibilities. Dean started cleaning his silver .45, that gun was always with him. If he didn't have his gun he felt naked. It was right up there with Sam and his car on his list of things he couldn't live without. Cas probably came higher than it though. In fact, Cas might know something about this case. Dean paused in his cleaning. Could he ask Cas for help? No, they'd try on their own first. They only just got here, they don't even know what they're hunting yet. Dean resumed his cleaning with thoughts of the angel mingling with thoughts of the case.

After a while Sam had come up with nothing and slammed his laptop shut in annoyance. "how about we go question some witnesses?"

"Finally!" Dean said, having finished cleaning his gun ages ago and been forced to idly flick through channels on the TV.


	5. Chapter 5

After a long flight the Detective and his blogger checked into an expensive hotel in Cincinnati. Sherlock got them the Penthouse, under Mycroft's name. "Sherlock, why do we need the Penthouse?" John asked in confusion.

"In all honesty," Sherlock stopped walking and turned to John. "We don't."

"Why did you book it then?" Sherlock resumed walking and didn't answer John until they were at the lift.

"To piss Mycroft off," the Detective said simply.

When the pair arrived at the Penthouse, Sherlock took his coat and scarf off and left them by the door. John put his laptop down and took his own coat off. Sherlock quickly, went around the entire suite and then decided they weren't going to stay for long.

When the Detective returned to where John was, sat at a table waiting for his laptop to boot up, he said, "John, we can't wait, the game is on!" And with that Sherlock grabbed his coat, but opted against the scarf, and left the suite. John sighed, but followed the eager Detective.

"Why does he do this, everytime?"

When John caught up with Sherlock he was outside the hotel just looking around. "Do you have any idea where you're going?" John asked.

"None at all," Sherlock replied before putting his hands in his pockets and striding off. Eventually they found the house of the young man they had come here to help. His name was Mitchell Collins, he was 23 and had been on a date with his new girlfriend when she had 'vanished' along with the statue behind her.

Sherlock knocked on the door. When it opened a young woman was behind it. "Hello?" She said, seeming utterly confused as to why there were two men stood on the door step.

"Hello, yes, I'm Sherlock Holmes, this is John Watson, I'm sure your brother has told you we were coming," Sherlock said. The woman seemed to recognise the names.

"Yeah, Mitch did say something about you," she said. "But I thought you were already here."

"Did you?" Sherlock said, intrigue making his eyes shine. "And where are these men? One of them is undoubtedly shorter than the other, but by only a few inches, however both are quite tall. There relationship is close, to close to be friends, brothers yes. But not in the typical sense, the older raised the younger due to absent parents. One parent died when they were young, perhaps the father, the other absent for months on end seeking revenge. Oh and the older is almost certainly gay." Sherlock paused. "No sorry make that confused."

"Wow," a man's voice said from the end of the hall.

"Sammy! What does he mean gay? I ain't gay!"

"He said you were confused Dean, not gay."

" And Mom died, not Dad!"

"Oh and there they are now, I always get something wrong," Sherlock said. "If you'll excuse us."

"Sorry," John said to the woman who was still stood in the doorway. "He's always like that." And then John followed Sherlock into the house. "Who are you two sons of bitches?" The man, who Sherlock had identified as gay, demanded.

"We," Sherlock said calmly. "Are the two you are impersonating. John you should really put pictures on that blog of yours."

The taller of the brothers looked shocked. "Oh God!"

"What?" The shorter asked him.

"It's hat man! We're impersonating John and Sherlock!"

"Who the hell are John and Sherlock?"

"Really Dean? How can you not know who John and Sherlock are, these two are internet phenomenon!"

"Yeah, Sammy we can't all be huge ass nerds."

"Yes, yes, can you have this argument later?" Sherlock interrupted the arguing brothers. At that exact moment a whining, groaning, grinding sound permeated the air and a large, Blue Police Box materialized in the room. "Oh what is he doing here!" Sherlock groaned.

"Freaking hell, what is that?" Dean yelled.

"It's a Police Box," Sherlock dead panned. "Can't you see that?"


	6. Chapter 6

The engines groaned and complained, the breaks had been left on again, the Doctor and Martha were shaken about. Finally after what, to Martha felt like an age, the shaking stopped. She let go of the controls. The Doctor was already running for the door. He stopped suddenly and fell against it. "Are you ready Martha?" He said. "I have no idea what's on the other side of this door, it could be anything."  
"I'm ready," Martha giggled.  
"Alrighty then! Allon-sy!" And with that the Doctor pushed the door open and disappeared into a possibly alien world. Martha followed him out.  
"No!" The Doctor said when he saw who it was that was outside the door. "Sherlock! Nice to see you again!"  
"Like wise Doctor," Sherlock replied.  
"And Sam and Dean Winchester! Legends you boys are! Absolute legends! They'll be telling and retelling your story for centuries! Oh and that time you went to that dimension where your lives were a TV show! Brilliant! " The Doctor grinned when the two looked confused. "Oh Dean where's your angel?"  
"Wow!" Dean said. "My angel?"  
"Oops, sorry wrong time period," The Doctor looked slightly sheepish. But it didn't last. "Oh this is brilliant! All these legends together in the same place at the same time. I wonder why we're all here."  
"Angel statues," Dean said.  
"Weeping Angels," Sherlock said at exactly the same time.  
"Oh good we're all on the same page," The Doctor said, completely ignoring Sam and Dean's confusion, they were still shocked about being called legends. Sure they were legacies and probably the greatest hunters ever, but did that make them legends?  
"Doctor, I am glad you are here," a very familiar voice said from right next to Dean.  
"Oh there he is!" The Doctor said. "I thought you said you didn't know him Dean?"  
"No," Dean said. "Cas ain't my angel."  
"I beg to differ," Sherlock said. "He is standing right in your personal space and you are not complaining."  
"Could say the same about your hobbit there, buddy," Dean responded. The hunter and detective consciously took a step away from their companions.


End file.
